Remember looking at [omitted] laying on couch from my upright sitting position. After a moment he said ‘you know, I was thinking, it felt weird to say your name when I called to you from the balcony. We don’t say each other’s names.’ I said ‘yeah. It’s weird to say your name too.’ (the last time he was at my apartment I ‘confessed’ that I usually have to stop myself from calling him two names that are not his name before I remember his name). He said ‘yeah, well I mean, you think I’m [wrong name #1]. And like, [wrong name #2].’ I batted at him playfully and said ‘you just look so much like a [wrong name #1]. It’s not my fault.’ I said ‘the bet will be easy. It’ll be a good reason to not say each other’s names. We’ll be good at it.’

A little later he asked me to read something aloud and it had his name in it and I reacted big like ‘fuckkkkkkk’ and we were laughing. Found $1.25 in my purse while he said ‘three minutes, come on, three minutes or three delis, come on.’ I used a fake-mad, ‘aristocratically defeated’ voice to say ‘I have it. I have perfect change, here’ and moved the dollar and quarter up his underpants, trying to maneuver into his asscrack. Unsuccessful, I think. This was good. Good stuff.

Read stuff on our phones for a while. He brought over maybe four poetry books and got excited and showed me parts of poems he liked and had forgotten. They were things I didn’t think I’d like. Surprised I did. Seemed evident they ‘struck more of a chord’ with him than me but I liked them. They were funny/absurd. He is currently still making the food thing.

2:31am: he came over to couch/took a break from food thing and laid on me and we sometimes kissed and put pressure on different body parts in experimental ‘trying to fit’ yoga-like…unofficial pressing on each other/finding comfy spots yoga. You hear the other person breathing and it sounds good and it makes you think about how you’re breathing close to them, and you feel your torsos expand and contract in this…roiling…organism…with double-consciousness…but barely moving, like moving at ‘century pace,’ like you could keep the pace of what you’re doing for centuries if you couldn’t die.

2:33am: [omitted] said ‘what time is it’ I said ‘it’s two thirty-three a.m.’ then we said things about Elliott Smith. Three minutes have passed. The album playing is ‘new moon.’ I said ‘you know, ‘new moon,’ like, ‘twilight?’ you know ‘twilight?’ [omitted] looked busy with the food thing. He said ‘I guess not. Sort of.’ I said ‘Stephanie Meyer? That thing?’ he seemed big time distracted. Snort-laughed a little to myself typing this now, aware of myself not wanting to say the Stephanie Meyer thing at all but making myself further it to…like…socially painful extent…but it’s funny, like an inside joke with myself, I do things like this ‘on purpose’ a lot I think. It’s funny when the other person doesn’t realize what’s going on or they’re just like, occupied with their own concerns and acting ‘obviously, naturally disinterested in this obviously uninteresting topic brought to my attention by the usually otherwise benignly amusing or quiet Megan.’